


Screaming Infidelities

by dirtymattress (orphan_account)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-07
Updated: 2012-12-07
Packaged: 2017-11-20 12:52:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/585622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/dirtymattress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To be screwed over or to be the one to screw up?</p>
<p>“I can hardly live with myself…”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Screaming Infidelities

Exhale.

“Open up,” He groaned loudly from outside. I leaned my forehead against the heavy wooden door, eyes squeezed tight.

Inhale.

Exhale.

I let my hand fall towards the lock, budging it the left. I stood up, pulling my shoulders back in an act of confidence and finally pulled the door open, the numbing winter wind pushing its way into the house.

“What took you so long?” He panted pulling his luggage into our dark front room and leaning in to steal a quick kiss. His lips were cold, numb but I missed them so much I could feel the tears stinging my eyes. He tried to pull away but my hands clenched the lapels of his jacket and held his body to mine. He didn’t fight me, running his frozen, ungloved hand up my arm until it rested at the nape of my neck. His rough, calloused thumb grazed my cheek so tenderly it was as if he wasn’t there at all. After a moment he pulled away from me, taking my face in his hands before stealing one last kiss and kicking the door closed behind us.

He peeled off his winter jacket and threw it on the bench by the door, bits of snow falling onto the hardwood floor but melting almost instantly. I stood, silently, watching him unravel the thick scarf around his neck and kick off his boots in delight. He was so happy to be home, I could feel his presence filling the lonely space.

I did my best to pick up his luggage and move it closer to the stairs knowing I could never manage to get the thing upstairs myself. Once he had removed most of his layers, he put his cell phone and wallet in the little basket I bought so he could stop losing everything and cemented his overdue return home. He stood in the middle of the front hallway, taking it all in.

Our home was small and warm and I had a fire waiting for him. I had put our Christmas tree up earlier that night decorated in our favorite colors and childhood ornaments. His plaques, records and awards lined our fireplace next to the big black and white photographs of our families and friends. Once I had his luggage settled I looked back to find him watching me, his eyes low and tired. I felt transparent, like he could see right through me.

He didn’t speak, only taking the few steps between us and wrapping his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. His thumbs massaged my lower back gently, his fingers gently squeezed at my sides. He only looked down at me, taking in my features, before leaning his head down and resting our foreheads together.

“I missed you so much…” he whispered with a long, deep sigh. I wrapped my arms around his neck letting my fingers ruffle the hair at the back of his neck. I nuzzled our noses together and he smiled, tired but happy.

“You have no idea…” was all I could say, pulling his body to mine and giving him the tightest hug. Feeling his breath on my neck and shoulders, a chill ran through my bones causing me to shiver. I could feel hot tears stinging my eyes as I buried my face in his neck.

Three months was a long time. The longest we had ever been apart. I was so proud of him touring the world and doing what he loved but that left me here, alone, in an empty house. That wasn’t an excuse and I felt the guilt start to ping.

“Baby, you’re freezing.” He pulled away rubbing up and down my bare arms to warm me up. His tired face flashed as he noticed the tears in my eyes, his forehead wrinkled with concern. He tilted my head back so he had a better view. “You crying?”

“I’m not crying.” I said quickly patting my cheeks dry and smiling up at him. “I just missed you, your touch. I just missed-” I just sighed, knowing the list was infinite. “I made you supper. It’s probably cold now…” I said pulling away but this time it was his turn to pull me in with a firm, passionate kiss. His lips parted mine and I could still feel his love and excitement for me like it was our first kiss all over again. I felt my thighs catch fire and I became weak in his arms, my hands gripping at the collar of his thin jumper. He ran his cool hands under my shirt, up my back; my skin hot to his touch. His lips trailed down my chin before I eased him off, not ready to go down that path just yet.

He stood frozen, unsure of why I had rejected his advance, but said nothing. I took his hand in mine over my shoulder, kissing his fingertips while I lead him to the kitchen. He sat in his usual place at the island watching me intently as I made him a bowl of soup, his eyes following my every movement but he didn’t say a word. I placed a steaming bowl in front of him and leaned in to kiss the corners of lips before settling down in the stool next to him. I nudged his leg over so I could fit mine in between and he squeezed my thigh in appreciation for his food.  He smirked before picking up his spoon and blowing on his first homemade dinner in months.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.” Once I saw he was set I got back up to make us some tea. “Two sugars?”

“The usual.” he yawned.

“You never know…” I said simply dropping two sugar cubes into his teacup and stirring quietly. We settled back into our comfortable silence as I slid the teacup across the counter in front of him. I wiped off the counters of our cozy kitchen before settling back down next to him. Before I could sit he slipped his hand into my back jean pocket, squeezing my ass as he innocently took a sip of his tea. I sat down anyway, his hand resting on the ass he naughtily proclaimed was his favorite part about me.

“You look tired, baby.” I wrapped one of his greasy, unwashed curls around my finger before trailing my fingertip down the curve of his hidden ear and across his neck to the top of his collarbone. He grabbed my hand, kissing my fingertips gently and resting the back of my fingers against his cheek.

“I’m not tired.” He simply pouted, looking over at me with those eyes and pushing his now empty bowl of soup away.

“So, did you  _really_  miss me?” I teased, taking a slow sip of my tea, hiding my smirk.

“No.” he teased me back, shaking out his hair and sweeping it off to the side **.**  He got up from his place between my legs and put his bowl in the sink, rinsing it out first then putting it in the dishwasher. I licked my lips, trying to keep myself in control. Sure, I had seen him on stage singing to thousands and walking down red carpets in the best fitting designer suits but he was sexiest, most irresistible, doing the most mundane things like the dishes or gathering wood for the fire. I took another sip of my tea as I watched how the muscles in his back moved, how the veins in his forearms lead up to his defined biceps and I couldn’t help but notice his shirt was just a bit tighter than before.

“Are you checking me out?” He murmured from his place at the sink, never turning around. I could feel my cheeks blush red and rolled my eyes knowing he couldn’t see me. He still made me nervous and giddy like a little girl. I crossed my legs tight, feeling myself getting hot. The guilt pinged.

“Let’s go to bed, sleepyhead.” I finally said putting down my cup of tea and beginning to pick on my lips out of nerves. He turned around and leaned up against the sink, just staring at me for a second before reaching to get my tea cup and putting that too into the dishwasher.

“What are you doing?” He finally spoke, turning back to me and leaning back against the sink. Confused, I wrinkled my brow and straightened out my shoulders.

“What are you talking about?” I laughed nervously. He walked towards me slowly, his eyes seeming to drill into mine. He stood in front of me, parting my legs with a simple tap on my knee.

“You’re nervous?” He pulled my fingers away from my lips and I felt my cheeks only get darker. His eyes searched my face looking for what was wrong with me. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” I laughed him off, looking at him like he was talking crazy. “I’ve just missed you, that’s all. It’s so surreal that you’re back. Like, it’s not a dream…” I trailed off, watching him pull him bottom lip under his teeth.

“What are you talking about? I live here, silly.” He finally flashed that smiled, pushing all of his weight on my legs and leaning in to plant a firm kiss on my lips. He ran his fingers through my hair to the back of my neck, tilting my head back. He stepped deeper into my legs, spreading them wide, as his free hand started to massage up the back of my thigh. I moaned into his mouth, feeling his hand getting closer to the heat between my legs.

“It’s been so long…” I breathed as his lips fluttered down my neck, his tongue leading the way. I wrapped my arm around his neck for support, the other hand gripping the counter. He wrapped my legs around his waist before lifting me up and setting me on the counter, pushing the decorative veggie basket out of the way. He lifted my t-shirt up over my head and gazed down at my bare breast, cupping them in his large hands and running his thumbs over my tender nipples.  I pulled my hair off to the side and arched my back as he took my nipple in his lips, gently nibbling with his teeth. He kissed long and gingerly across my chest, taking my neglected skin in his hot mouth. A gasp escaped my mouth and I could see his eyes, animated and full of lust, looking up at me and enjoying the feedback my body was giving him. I pulled at the seams of his jumper, pulling it over his head when he finally decided to switch between my breasts. I started to pull at his thin t-shirt, the final layer, when he stopped and stood up straight, pushing my arms away.

“Stop trying to get me naked.” He teased, pulling his shirt off himself and flashing me a naughty smile.

“Baby…” I giggled as he pulled me to the edge of the counter by my knees, kissing up my torso while undoing the button of my jeans.

“What?” he laughed innocently, easing down the zipper and trying to inch down my jeans. Suddenly I shot up, sitting up straight on the counter, my arms across my exposed chest.

“Wait…” I said softly as his hands rested on my thighs. His eyes narrowed trying to read my expression before a smile crept back on his face and he reached around to grab my ass with a tight squeeze. He tried to push my body back down, kissing down my collarbone. When I resisted and didn’t move my arms, he seemed to get the picture and pulled back.

“… You alright?” His eyes were confused, concerned. He cupped my face in his hands, tucking a loose strand behind my ear. His eyes grazed our bodies, checking to see if I was uncomfortable or if he was hurting me in any way. I could feel tears welling in my eyes again as I reached for my shirt on the counter. “What are you doing?” he asked, plucking my shirt out of my hands with ease.

“Not in the kitchen…” was all I could muster up, looking up at the ceiling hoping to prevent a tear from falling.

“It’s not like we’ve never done it before…” He said condescendingly, but seemed to regret it the moment it left his lips. He leaned in to kiss me again but this time I couldn’t, turning my head slightly so he could catch the corner of my lips.

“I’m sorry…”

“What’s going on? Look at me, what’s wrong?” He turned my head to meet his eyes. He looked so confused, tired, annoyed.

“I can’t do this.” I whispered, dropping my head and taking it in my hands. He enveloped me in his arms, softly kissing my shoulder and running his fingers through my hair. He was being calm and patient and that only made it worse. He let me cry, let me get out those first few tears because he knew I wouldn’t be able to talk about anything until I did. He rocked me on the counter, my legs still wrapped around his legs.

“Babe?” I could feel his lips brushing my ear with each note. My body was aching, wishing I would put my fears aside but I couldn’t. The guilt I’d been living with for weeks had taken over my body and I couldn’t dare be with him until I told him the truth.

“I love you.” I whispered, needing to hear it back just one last time.

“I love you, too. You’re scaring me…” I took a deep breath and we sat quiet for a while.

“I… I had an affair.” I felt his hand rubbing my back halt to a stop before gathering in a fist pressed firmly against my skin. I was terrified to look at him but I could feel my body growing colder as he slowly stepped away from me and stumbled back against the wall. The old house was silence except for the gently cackling of the wood from the fireplace. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him calmly lean down and pick up his shirt, slipping it over his head. He didn’t speak but he didn’t move. “I’m so sorry…” my voice cracked. “Baby, I’m so sorry…” I looked up at his face, hard and drained. His nostrils were flared and his eyes were wide as they seemed to be trying to make sense of it all. He didn’t say a word as I reached for my shirt and pulled it on over my head. I inched off the counter top slowly, as to not disturb him anymore. I stood before him, picking at my lips waiting for him to speak or react or just acknowledge me.

It felt like an eternity before he spoke, but all he did was let out a short desperate breath as he ran his fingers through his hair. His breathing started to get heavier as his shoulders slouched over burying his face in his arms. I reached out an arm to touch him, to let him know he should take it out on me, but he flinched at the contact and I retracted with a whimper.

“Do you like him?” he grunted softly, unable to control his emotions. I shook my head no, even though I knew he couldn’t see me.

“No, never. It was a horrible mistake, I promise you. I can hardly live with myself…” The tears streamed down my face as I again leaned into him reaching for his touch and this time he let me. I gently wrapped my fingers around his forearm, trying to pull them away from his face so I could look at him. So he could look at me and see how horrible I felt for doing this to him, to the man I was in love with. I had no excuses to give him. I had hurt him worse than I even imagined and for the past two weeks since my indiscretion I had been terrified of this very moment. The moment I knew he would surely walk out and leave me forever. His eyes were dark and cold but mostly just sad. His brows were deeply furrowed and his bottom lip nearly white under the pressure of his teeth biting down. He looked me dead in the eyes, bloodshot and red, his face flushed of all color. He was angry, the rage buried deep in his eyes, but he didn’t say a word and simply rubbed his eyes slowly, his body visibly shaking.

“Baby…” I pleaded to him, my voice barely making it out above a whisper. He backed away from me again before turning and walking out of the kitchen. When I didn’t hear the front door slam I felt a wave of relief wash over my body as I slumped back onto my stool.

I had hurt him and I was completely, utterly devastated. I knew how he felt, I knew what he was thinking and I knew there was nothing I could ever do to take it back. It had hardly been a year since I got that phone call from him, half way around the world, telling me that he had messed up and didn’t know if he could handle being in a relationship. I was devastated, I had wanted to die. We had only been together for eight months before he cheated on me. I cheated after two years, a house, and a rebuilt, stronger relationship. We had been broken up for a month before he came back home and we just fell right back into our old ways.

We were in love and after that I knew we could really be happy, all I had to do was forgive him. He had made a mistake, he had learned from that mistake and now it was my turn but this was different. This time, it was me who wondered away from home, it was me who could no longer be trusted and that killed me. I wanted to kiss him and tell him that everything was going to be ok, tell them that he could trust me because I never wanted anyone but him for the rest of my life but it just wasn’t that simple. It took me months to truly forgive him, months to get our relationship back on track and I only had five days until he was to leave again, back on tour. I felt sick to my stomach.

I slowly made my way to the stairs, noting his wallet and keys were still by the door. I quietly, slowly made my way up the stairs and when I saw our bedroom door cracked open I couldn’t help myself. I peered into the dark room but could just make out his silhouette wrapped deeply under the covers, his body facing the wall. I tiptoed over to the base of our bed, pulling on the t-shirt he had just taken off and letting my clothes fall to the floor. I inhaled his scent, his musk and just a hint of cologne, pulling the fabric up to my nose. I looked down at his covered figure, wanting to reach out and hold him, make him see that this would not break us, but I couldn’t. I had needed weeks to forgive him, months to even look at his face the same way. I shivered in the coldness, fighting with myself over whether to sleep in the guest bedroom or reclaim my place in our bed, the place I no longer deserved. I couldn’t leave him though, I couldn’t bare to wake up one more day without seeing his face or hearing his voice.

I crawled onto my side of the bed. The distance was terrible and I instantly regretted having a king size bed. Even in my spot, my arms couldn’t reach him if I tried. I lay facing his direction, his broad back a barrier between us. I wiped my tears with his shirt, whimpering softly in hopes he wouldn’t hear. We laid there like strangers, his breathing low and steady as he slept. I swore I could feel his heartbeat through the sheets. With my arm out, extended towards his hunched figure, I could feel my mind starting to rest and the energy draining from my fingertips. My eyes began to close but I could feel him shifting in bed, repositioning himself. I waited till he had settled back in, till the sheets were still, before peeking back at him through my heavy lids.

He was now facing me, still wrapped tightly in the duvet with just his forearms and head visible. I could barely make out his dark eyes, glazed over and heavy. His eyes were fixed on my hand; the one still outstretched to him but was now much closer. I could feel the heat radiating from his body through my fingertips when I noticed that he was softly tracing the outline of my hand in the sheets, his fingertips making sure not to get too close. I watched him, unaware I was awake, as he ran his fingers up my arm but never touching my skin, as if an invisible layer was separating us. His body jerked softly in reaction to the tears that were now streaming down his face, reflecting in the little moonlight that had penetrated the room.

As his fingers began to retreat, taking his heat with him, my fingers twitched and I saw his body tense up before he brought his eyes up to meet mine. Sad, heavy eyes that I wanted to kiss and make better. I lifted one finger up until it touched the skin of his wrists, nuzzling the soft spot before tracing my fingertips along his still frozen in mid air palm. His skin was rough from life on the road, unloved and dry. We didn’t break eye contact, the stare was long and intense and neither of us seemed to blink. I caressed my thumb against his feeling him respond by spreading his fingers to fit mine. Like strangers, nervous and timid, our fingers interlocked as he drew small circles with his thumb in my palm. The contact, feeling his skin against mine, pushed a soft sigh.

I felt him gently pulling on my fingers, then felt the pull through my arm until he was pulling my entire body towards him. Without releasing our hold, I cautiously crawled over to him on all fours, my near naked body shivering as his t-shirt gathered up near my shoulders. I attempted to pull it down to at least cover my bum when he gently pulled his covers back, motioning me to slip into the dark, warm space. I settled next to him, my back pressed against his chest and his arm my new pillow. Our hands were still intertwined across my chest, our lock now firm. I wanted to see his face but was just happy to be pressed against his body once again. I could feel his breath gently blowing at my hair as we just laid there in silence. He covered my body with the sheets, leaving his arm resting over my hips.

“I love you…” I whispered, kissing his knuckles that were wrapped around my fingers. He didn’t respond and I didn’t expect him to but instead he pulled my hips back against him and I couldn’t help but smile when he slipped one of his legs between mine, entangling our bodies. This was the only way he could sleep since I’d met him, the only way he could get comfortable. I felt my heart flutter as his body went limp against mine, him falling into a deep sleep. He still needed me, he still wanted me near. I nestled my head under his chin, listening to his slow and steady heartbeat as ours began to beat in rhythm.

Everything wasn’t alright. Everything wasn’t going to be ok, but for this moment in time we were together and that was all I could ask him.

Exhale.


End file.
